


Turning 30

by crochetaway



Series: Drabbles and OneShots [130]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26486947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: Hermione is depressed about turning 30, but a surprise visit perks her up.
Series: Drabbles and OneShots [130]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/627092
Kudos: 23
Collections: Hermione's Birthday Soirée 2020





	Turning 30

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: No beta, other than Grammarly, all mistakes are mine. If you liked this (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! You can find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.
> 
> Thanks to the modmins at Hermione's Haven for hosting this mini-fest! This was a really fun one to write!

* * *

Hermione stared at the calendar pinned to her wall sullenly. Tomorrow was her birthday. Her thirtieth birthday. And what did she have to show for it? Admittedly, not much. She had finally quit her job last week, no boyfriend or husband, no children, no life. It was going to be a depressing birthday. More so, when she realized not a single one of her friends had even mentioned plans for it. Not even a dinner out somewhere. She gave the calendar a two-fingered salute and dug the half-eaten pint of ice cream out of her freezer resolving to eat her feelings away in front of the telly.

She really ought to start applying for jobs again. It wasn’t like her to quit a job before having another lined up, but she couldn’t take one more minute tied up in Ministry red-tape. When she started at the Ministry she had been so idealistic. Ready to take on the world and end systemic prejudice from the inside.

Ten years later, and she knew that she alone would never be able to end all the prejudices built into the wizarding culture or the systems of the Ministry. So she had quit in a fit of rage and lounged around her flat since then. She needed something else to do with her life, but she had no idea what. All she knew was that she absolutely did _not_ want to work for the Ministry again. Ever.

Hermione finished her ice cream, watching some hideous reality show on the telly before listlessly turning it off and trudging to bed. Tomorrow was going to be just like any other day, except she would be thirty and jobless and not twenty-nine and jobless. Somehow being twenty-nine and jobless didn’t sound as bad as being thirty and jobless.

* * *

The next day found Hermione still lazing in bed at noon. She contemplated getting up and showering and going for a walk, but thus far, it was only contemplations. She hadn’t actually moved. She picked up the novel she was reading for the third time. After a few pages, she put it down again. She couldn’t focus on it right now. What was she doing with her life? It was sad, really. She hadn’t even gotten an owl this morning from her friends wishing her a happy birthday. Did that mean they were no longer her friends? When did friendship turn into acquaintanceship? Forgetting a birthday seemed like a pretty stepping stone on the way from friendship. She couldn’t even say she was surprised. When was the last time she had taken Harry and Ron up on an offer to get drinks after work? She couldn’t remember, but she was pretty sure it had been months.

Just as she was about to pick up her book for the fourth time, there was a knock at her flat door. She frowned, she definitely wasn’t expecting anyone. And she hadn’t even brushed her teeth yet, she realized with a grimace, running her tongue over the fuzziness of her front teeth. Well, whoever it was, hopefully, they wouldn’t notice. She lumbered out of bed, groaning at the persistent ache in her right knee. She’d injured it during the war and all these years later, it still twinged a bit.

Whoever it was knocked again and Hermione grumbled out a soft, “Hold your bloody horses.”

Finally, she got to the door, kicking over a pile of shoes so she could open it. Remus Lupin stood in her very Muggle building holding a birthday cake and wearing a smile.

“Happy Birthday!” he said, lifting the cake box a bit.

“Uh, hi,” Hermione nodded, she stared at him, knowing she should invite him in, but also knowing that her flat was a mess and that she hadn’t showered yet that day.

“Can I come in?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“Sure,” Hermione agreed. She Summoned her wand, it flew to her hand after digging itself out from underneath a pile of dirty laundry. “Sorry about this mess, things have been…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“I’d heard you quit your job,” Remus said tactfully.

“The whole bloody world heard that,” Hermione mumbled, still bitter and cross about the front-page spread on the _Daily Prophet_ detailing her rather spectacular rant when she’d quit in the middle of the Ministry Atrium.

Remus smiled, and patiently moved a pile of blankets from her sofa so he could sit down.

“I, uh, actually haven’t showered yet,” Hermione admitted, her face burning in embarrassment. “Do you mind—”

“Not at all!” Remus said, hurriedly. “I’ll work on tea while you get yourself cleaned up.”

Hermione nodded her thanks and headed to the bathroom at the back of her flat. She knew Remus likely wouldn’t judge her for her unkempt flat or lazing about in bed, but it didn’t stop her from being embarrassed about it. She wasn’t quite sure when her life had fallen apart, but it seemed that it had.

Also, while she was friends with Remus, they weren’t that close. How embarrassing that the _only_ person who had remembered her birthday was a man who used to be her professor? She sighed, stepping into the warmth of her shower. At least someone remembered. And he’d brought cake. That perked her up a bit and she hurried through the rest of her ablutions.

When she arrived back in the living room, wearing clean clothes, some of the last she had clean, actually, she was in a better mood. Remus had made tea, as promised and he’d cut them each a slice of cake.

“I didn’t think you’d want the candles and all,” he said with a small grin.

“Didn’t want to have to sing on your own, more likely,” Hermione replied. She nodded her thanks as he handed her a teacup, drinking deeply of the brew.

“What are your plans for the day?” Remus asked.

Hermione shrugged and looked away. “Not much. Nothing planned for this evening. I should probably work on applying to jobs somewhere, but I haven’t even really been looking. Thirty is… not what I expected it to be.”

“Do you know what I was doing when I was thirty?” Remus asked thoughtfully.

Hermione shook her head. He would have been thirty the year right before she went to Hogwarts.

“Couch surfing with anyone who would have me. I lost my most recent job due to my furry little problem,” he smirked at that, “and thus lost my flat too.” He laughed slightly, looking lost in thought. “It wasn’t my best year, that’s for sure.”

“Well, at least you’re doing better now. You have a job, and a home with Sirius, and—”

Remus shook his head, cutting her off. “That wasn’t the point, Hermione. The point was that you don’t have to have your entire life figured out at thirty. You don’t have to be settled with kids, even if half your friends are. You can still be deciding on what makes you happy. Hell, you can even start over from scratch if you want. All you really need to do is figure out exactly what it is you want.”

She sighed, setting her teacup on the coffee table and rubbing her temples with her fingers. “That’s just it! I don’t bloody _know_ what I want.”

“Well, what _don’t_ you want?”

“I _don’t_ want a job at the Ministry. I _don’t_ want to work for some huge soulless organization. I _do_ want to try and make a difference and change the things in the wizarding world that _need_ to be changed.”

Remus hummed in thought for a moment. “Maybe you should start your own advocacy group?”

“With what money?” Hermione scoffed. “I have enough that I don’t need a new job right away, but eventually, my savings will run out.”

“You say that as if you don’t have some very rich friends,” Remus replied with a small smile. “All you have to do is ask and I’m sure Harry and Sirius would be happy to help you set up a foundation.”

“Friends that didn’t even remember my birthday?” Hermione muttered.

At this Remus smirked. “Perhaps they hadn’t forgotten. You never really asked why I was here.”

“Why are you here?” Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

“We have a reservation at one of the Leaky Cauldron’s private rooms starting at six this evening. Be there.” He gave her a little smile and kissed her cheek. “Happy Birthday, Hermione.”

When she showed up at the Leaky Cauldron later that day, she found a huge surprise party organized for her. Most of her Hogwarts year had turned up, as had several former colleagues. It was just what she needed to get her out of her funk. The day after her birthday, she began drawing up plans for a foundation to help disenfranchised magical creatures.

_**~Fin~** _


End file.
